


Unauthorized Statement

by Faeymouse



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Character, General Magnus Archives creepiness, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faeymouse/pseuds/Faeymouse
Summary: What exactly did Jane Prentiss text to Jon with Martin's cellphone?





	Unauthorized Statement

**Author's Note:**

> I recently starting listening to The Magnus Archives on the recommendation of a friend, and boy HOWDY is it perfect in all the best ways! I'm still on Season One, so any unexplained weirdness (aside from the usual Magnus Archives weirdness) in this fic can likely be attributed to the fact that I'm just not that far yet.
> 
> That being said, I was warned. Mm, not the right word. I was told after I babbled about this fic on Tumblr for a bit that - most wonderful of surprises! - our dear Head Archivist buddy is canon asexual!! That brought a big ole smile on my face, and since I love it so much I will be respecting that in this fic. While the Martin/Jonathan ship is still gonna happen, there won't be anything overtly sexual about it. Romantic shmoopiness, yes, but no boinking. If you'll let me use that technical term.
> 
> What else before we start? I did something a bit different with this fic and completed most of it before I started posting. It was a challenge, I do love me some instant gratification after all, but all in all I liked doing it this way! It was a fun experiment.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy, fam. Pretend you hear the sound of old lights being flicked on and a tape recorder beginning to whir...

The mobile buzzed loudly, the screen lighting up with the quick flash of a text received just before the thing managed to vibrate itself off the nightstand and onto the floor below. Jon blinked blearily awake, heart hammering and eyes staring into the dark ceiling of his bedroom, the last vestiges of what could only have been a nightmare drifting away from his mind like shreds of old mist.  
  
His brain booted itself back up slowly, but fast enough that he knew the moment he heard his phone buzz again - now somewhere under his bed - that he would be getting no further sleep that night. Not that he'd had much since getting his new job at the Institute; spending one's days reading through chilling accounts of monsters and murderers and then coming home to an empty flat tended to have that effect, he guessed, whether he chose to believe most of them or not. Digging the knuckles of one hand into his eyes and fumbling around for his mobile with the other, he managed to get his phone in his hand. As he was holding it, it vibrated and lit up again, the harsh light bringing spots to his vision.  
  
When they cleared, the name _Martin_ stood out atop the notifications. The newest one began with a "sorry".  
  
"Of course," Jon muttered, flicking the lockscreen off. Though he would have loved to ignore the texts until a morning hour that didn't begin with a 3, there was always the chance it could possibly, inconceivably, be important. Even coming from Martin.  
  
**_-Hello Head Archivist._**  
  
_**-I'm going to be out sick tomorrow.**_  
  
And, finally:  
  
_**-Sorry**_  
  
Jon resisted the urge to once again ignore these (why Martin couldn't simply leave a message at the office was beyond him, and why call him 'Head Archivist'. Likely some sort of inside joke between him and the other assistants), he tapped back a reply.  
  
_**-Alright.*Jon**_  
  
Then, because he felt that familiar emotional itch he assumed was his conscience trying to remind him not to be a total git, added:  
  
_**-Is everything o.k.?**_  
  
But that felt far too friendly a way to talk to an assistant, so Jon quickly added:  
  
_**-I'll need to let Elias know if you'll be gone for more than a day.**_  
  
There. Perfect.  
  
The response was surprisingly quick, raising Jon's skepticism that Martin was actually sick, but he pushed the assumption aside. For now. Once he was properly conscious, that would be the time to revisit this.  
  
_**-I seem to have caught a bug. I don't know how long I'll be out for.**_  
  
Jon caught a yawn in his hand.  
  
_**-Alright**_  
  
Which he immediately followed up with  
  
_**-Take care of yourself.**_  
  
when the echo of a similar exchange with his ex-boyfriend's echoed through his head. Not too strange an occurrence, all things considered. They'd texted late at night like this. Broken up around now, too.  
  
Shaking the thought out of his head and setting his phone screendown on the nightstand, Jon flicked on his bedside lamp and got out of bed. He didn't need to think about his ex, or Martin, or the nightmares he couldn't remember. He just needed tea.  
  
***  
  
Work at the Institute that day was uneventful. That is to say, no less eventful then things tended to be in the place. Jon arrived early enough that he didn't run into anyone when he came in, nor on his way down to the Archives. He'd packed a lunch so he wouldn't have to leave his desk and his tape recorder, and promptly set to work without so much as a single 'good morning'.  
  
Archival organization, Jon had come to find, was a lonely business. Not that he much minded lonely. It made making progress far easier, and he was nothing except singularly devoted to efficiency. It was what had awarded him this position at so young an age, when there were multiple others - even assistants to his predecessor - that could have taken charge.  
  
As he worked, Jon let his mind wander. He'd been Head Archivist for quite a few months now, yet the camaraderie between his assistants hadn't extended to him despite the fact that they were all new to this. He couldn't shake the feeling that at least one of them didn't care for his promotion, though they were all kind enough to him when prompted.  
  
Did it matter if they actually liked him or not? Hardly.  
  
Hours passed. No one knocked on his door. The sound of his own voice began to grate on Jon's ears as he continued recording the current statement, so he started adding inflection. Pauses. It was quite fun, really.  
  
Still no one.  
  
It was the alarm on his mobile he always set for lunch that made him think of Martin again. It thrummed in his trouser pocket, and Jon was more surprised than embarrassed that he half hoped it was Martin, just for the chance at some semblance of human contact. _I just need to get some fresh air,_ Jon told himself when his stomach turned in disappoint at the blank notification tab. _And the sight of at least one other living person. Maybe I should even say hello. Be personable._  
  
It was that last self-order that brought him to initiate a chat with Martin. He began to type, something benign and friendly, then stopped midway. What was doing? Disturbing an ill colleague, or one that was playing hooky? For what, because he was bored?  
  
But as he'd begun to erase his aborted message completely, three dots appeared under Martin's name. They quickly coalesced into a message.  
  
_**-Lonely?**_  
  
Jon let out a sound halfway between a squawk and a snort, a wholly unprofessional noise that made him glad he had yet to see anyone else today.  
  
_**-No. Elias asked me to check in on you. We're quite backed up here. Are you feeling any better?**_  
  
_Elias won't mind the lie,_ Jon assured himself. It wasn't like he could see any of this anyway.  
  
_**-Not particularly. I still can't leave. Will he be angry with me?**_  
  
Jon felt a bit of guilt at that.  
  
_**-No.**_

 _**\- Will he be angry with** _ **you?**

A small chill ran down Jon's spin as he read that. Though he had little doubt that Elias wouldn't blame him for anything, the wording still felt off. Like it was vaguely threatening, or gleeful.

Jon opted to ignore it as little more than fever ramblings.

 _ **-I'll be sure to elaborate on your current situation. Feel better soon.**_  
  
He was about to leave it at that, but curiosity got the better of him.  
  
_**-Is there a reason you asked if I was lonely?**_  
  
Martin responded surprisingly quick given the question and his usual predisposition to take years to get to a point.  
  
_**-Yes. I'm here all alone, I hoped you were too.**_  
  
Jon chewed on the side of his cheek, something strange afflicting him suddenly. It felt disquietingly similar to fear, except warm instead of chilling. _Understanding,_ he decided, that was it.  
  
And he felt it with Martin, of all people.  
  
Jon let out a sigh. Shot off a text, then shut off his phone as he headed off to lunch. Shut it off, so he couldn't immediately regret sending that last message.  
  
_**-Me, too.**_  
  
***  
  
That night was the first time they texted good night to one another. Jon sent one first, not allowing himself to second guess it. He's lonely and he's ill, Jon insisted to himself. You can't leave a sick man all alone. Just until he's healthy, that's all.  
  
Martin responded back quickly. Jon wondered if he was also having trouble with insomnia. He started wondering quite a few things about Martin as he drifted off to sleep, in fact.  
  
_**-Good night, Martin. Let me know if you'll be out again tomorrow.**_  
  
_**-I will. Good night, don't let the bedbugs bite.**_

**Author's Note:**

> I would have used that cool thing to make fake text screenshots, but I couldn't find it. I didn't exactly look that hard - welcome to lazy creativity! - but I might at some point. Those things are awesome. If you know where to find it and wanna tell me, I'd be eternally grateful.
> 
> Also, I'm just shooting in the dark that Jon had an ex boyfriend. I know he was in a relationship before, but I don't know the deets and I'm too scared to wiki it because I don't want a 'Surprise! He's deceased!' or something spoiler jumpscaring me.


End file.
